


quand les pétales tombent

by rosywonu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Creation Myth, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun-centric, Lilacs, Mentions of Blood, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), jaehyun is a god, jaehyun is angsty, jaehyun is born from a plant but he's not a plant, jaehyun's only friends are flowers, the birth of a god, yuta is in love with a god but doesn't want to admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosywonu/pseuds/rosywonu
Summary: The story of how a god was born from the love of a woman for her dead lover.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	quand les pétales tombent

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is my submission for the [ NCT Wayv Fleur Zine](https://twitter.com/nctwayv_fleur?s=20)! It's my first time participating in a zine, and I was very happy to be able to write for Jaehyun! I really hope you like my submission!

The cries of the woman were carried by the cold air of the February night. She cried as she cradled the body of her lover closer to her body. Even when her brother tried to get her away from the corpse, he couldn't get her to move. He watched as his sister draped herself over the body that was bathed in blood, looking on helplessly as she clutched her dead lover to her chest, pleads for him to be saved spilling between choked sobs. 

He turned his head away from the sight, only to look at the now dead wolf. He looked at the blood oozing out of the animal's body, watched as it mixed with the blood of the man, as it trickled through the pristine white snow, the crimson of the liquid contrasting against the pure blanket. The death of his brother-in-law was tragic, killed by a wolf on his trip to the forest to bring wood, and all he could do was pray that maybe in the future he and his sister would meet again, for their love was pure, and they deserved a better end than what they got. 

It was hard for her to get to her humble house, this time all alone. When she got home, all she did was stare into the void, soft whispers of her lover's name coming out from time to time, as if she was calling out to him, begging him to come back to her with the last of her powers. For a long time, the woman remained seated, watching as the fire slowly diminished, her mind filled with thoughts about the man that would no longer return to their small home. She longed for his embrace, longed to feel him wrap his arms around her. She longed for a family that she would never have now. She also longed for the twinkling laughter of a child, for their pitter-patter from running around, for the sweet smile of a child. She knew he was not coming back, but that didn’t stop her from hoping, hoping that one day they would be reunited.

As time passed, the room became cold and as much as she didn’t want to, she knew she had to move to their bedroom. With slow steps and a heavy heart, she pushed the mahogany door open, stepping inside the slightly warm room. The smell of pine trees enveloped her senses and she had to push back the need to cry. She slowly changed out of her blood-stained clothes before hurrying under the covers. She closed her eyes, and before she fell asleep, she concentrated on the love she felt, trying to send it to her dead lover, trying to show him that she still loved him, and that she would love him till the end of her life.

Unbeknownst to the woman that now laid asleep on the way too big bed, the sentiments of her love travelled further through the wide expanse of space, transcending, reaching another plane of existence, one that would never be reached by the tainted mortals. The waves that carried her pure love reached the gods that reigned over the mere humans, and at first they dismissed the waves, but then hearing the soft pure sound of true, raw love their attention was drawn to the waves that carried the woman’s love.

They listened as the sweet melody turned to a heart-wrenching one, as the pain of the woman mixed with her love for her dead lover. They listened as the waves of love spoke about the hopes of the couple, as they spoke about the beauty of their feelings, and while at first the gods were feeling just pure fascination at this manifestation of love, they started feeling pity for these humans.

The repercussions of the woman’s love made their hearts vibrate with it, made their hearts feel all of her pain, and then they realised that this wasn’t just a simple, stray wave of emotions. This was the primordial form of life, this was the vibration that brought everything to life, it was raw, it was sudden, it was a call for life, and they finally understood. This was all they needed to know that a god would be born, one born from the pure love of a woman.

That night, the vibrations returned to Earth, bouncing off from every surface in search of a specific spot, they traveled through the rays of the moon, they traveled along the waves, and the whole nature held its breath, watching as the vibrations traveled towards the same spot. Nature was silent now, watching as the vibrations moved through bodies of water, watched as they made leaves rustle, but avoided the cold earth, and every being knew that if the vibrations would hit the cold, hard ground, life would be lost.

As the waves that carried love, a love that would bloom into a new life, moved over the glinting snow, the moon watched as they intertwined with the blood that seeped into the lifeless ground, flowing into the ground with the crimson liquid. And then, the seal of the worlds was broken. A tremor shook the ground, and the sky seemed to be ripped apart by lightning and thunder. The whole world was sent into a frenzy, the waves lapping furiously at the beaches, and the cliffs that lined them, the oceans and seas pulling the boats into their depths claiming the lives of the innocent. The winds picked up, the trees engaging into a fast, brutal dance, to the sound of the wind. 

The animals joined the howls of the wind, with their own, celebrating the new life that was brought to this world. And the humans, frightened by nature's manifestation, trembled into the dark corners of their homes, fear coursing through their blood, paralysing them, rooting them to their spots.

In one home, a woman stood by her window. She watched the ritualistic dance of the trees, listened to the howls of joy, and she felt warmth spread through her veins, because she understood. The love thrumming through her veins whispered in her mind, telling her of the life that was brought on this planet, telling her of the life that would soon take the shape of a mere mortal. But he would be so much more. He would rule over this world, through the power of love. He would gift it, or take it away. And she, she would be the one to care for him. She was chosen by the powers of the universe to be in the presence of the god and to be called his mother, and this time, the tears that ran down her face were tears of joy. She wept, and wept celebrating with the higher forces.

Slowly nature seemed to come to a rest, everything stilling except from the pulsing ground. The blood continued to flow into the ground mixing with the pulsation, morphing into roots that broke through earth, going deeper and deeper.

The sudden growth of the roots came to a stop as the last few drops of the crimson liquid seeped through the snow covered ground. They would continue their growth slowly nurtured by the love that the woman had for her lover.

Days passed, the night of creation long forgotten by the mortals that continued their lives as if nothing happened. But one woman prayed day and night, sending her love in waves, and as they traveled through different dimensions, they always came back to this realm put under the cycle of life and death. They always returned to the spot where death claimed a life, to the spot where the higher powers of the universe brought another life.

Instead of crashing into the earth that housed the growing life, the waves caressed the earth, just like the love that the woman felt was meant to caress the face of her lover. The waves brought warmth over the dirt that was covered in a thin layer of ice, and soon the layers of dirt parted to make way for the sprout that tried desperately to breach the darkness and get closer to the love that called out to it.

The dirt parted, the little green leaves finally coming out of the darkness. The ice parted as well, but remained around the fragile leaves, the snow piling up around them, protecting them. The little leaves wiggled, as if they were shivering due to the biting cold, and the whole nature held its breath for a second watching as another wave of love came forward, soothing the little plant. At night, the earth seemed to hum in a low tune that lulled the small sprout to sleep. 

Soon spring made its presence known, the sun just a tad warmer, bathing the now bigger plant in its light. The snow melted away as the days went by, making way for the grass that would come to keep the plant company along with the waves of love that never ceased.

The weather grew warmer each passing day, and the humans started coming out of their houses more often, and between the faces of the villagers, one face stood out. It was the sunken face of the widow, that after a long time, finally ventured out of her house. She walked with her head lowered, hurrying along the paths towards the place where her lover took his last breath.

She walked along the paths, the spring breeze her only companion. As she got closer to the place that held such painful memories she pulled her coat closer, in an attempt to keep herself warm, and to keep her soul from shattering. The closer she got the harder she clutched her arms, her feet slowing down. She had the urge to turn around and head home, but then she felt a pull tugging her closer.

Her feet moved, stepping over the grass, and then she stopped. She stopped a few inches away from the spot that reminded her of what she lost, and she felt a sob trying to make its way out but she pushed it back, her hand slapping over her mouth for good measure.

At first she stared out at the forest that stretched out, her eyes roaming but not seeing, and then they moved, her gaze lowering, until she saw the small plant that raised her little twigs towards the sun that was turned towards it, the columns of light surrounding it.

Her breath caught in her throat and she slowly lowered her hand. She approached the plant that was still growing, and as if the plant recognized her it seemed to turn towards her, it seemed to reach out to her. She took small, unsure steps towards the small shrub, and when she was close enough, she raised her shaking hand, softly touching the young leaves.

At that moment, the plant rustled and the leaves tickled the palms of the woman, eliciting a tinkling giggle out of her slightly trembling body. She watched with fondness as the plant kept rustling its leaves, creating a soft melody that was carried by the spring wind. Soon her legs started to ache so she lowered herself to the ground but she didn’t move far from the young plant. She sat there listening to the calming symphony created by nature, quickly growing attached to the small shrub. She sat next to it, till the orange glow of the sunset started to fade into darkness. It was time for her to head back to her home, but as she left she promised herself that she would return.

And she did. At first she came back every few days, but she started missing the small shrub that was constantly growing, she missed the magical place, the place that soon started to feel like home. Spring turned into summer, and her visits became more frequent, and soon she was going to see the now small tree every single day. She spent her afternoons there, sometimes reading in the little shade provided by the young tree, sometimes embroidering, and sometimes she just laid in the tall grass listening to the sounds of nature, to the whispers of the old trees, and to the stories that the young tree that she came to love told her.

She spent her days there, the loneliness and pain now exchanged by the new love that she developed for the plant. But summer quickly passed, and the warm summer nights made way for the chilly autumn nights. The green of the trees, turned to shades of red and yellow, the spring breeze making way for the harsher autumn winds. Soon the trees started losing their thick crowns, but the small tree remained as green as ever. 

At first the woman didn’t let the weather stop her from spending her time with the little tree, but then as the weeks went by at an alarming pace, the weather turned cold, so cold that she couldn’t stand outside for long periods of time. And then came the first snow, and with it came the harshest winter that the village had experienced. Her visits turned short and sporadic, but they didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop, she wanted to watch as the tree grew taller and taller, his branches reaching towards the cloudy sky, his green leaves, contrasting against the sparkling white background.

Soon it was already February, and the woman ventured outside of her house to go and see the lone tree. She made her way through the snow that reached up to her knees, her limbs exhausted but her love for the tree was thrumming in her veins. It wasn’t long before she could see the tree in the distance, but something was different. Instead of his branches being decorated with leaves, now between the green leaves you could see buds ready to bloom.

She watched the buds, and couldn't believe what she was seeing. Wasn’t it too soon for the flowers to bloom? It was only February. The awe-struck feeling left her, worry for the flowers taking its place. That day, even at home she couldn’t help but worry for the little buds. 

It wasn’t even a week before she returned, only to be greeted by the sight of small pristine, white flowers in full bloom. With bated breath and small steps, she approached the tree, and as if the tree felt that she was there, it rustled, sending a wave of the most beautiful fragrance she had ever encountered her way. She got as close as she could, before cupping one of the little branches that held the minuscule flowers. She ran her thumb over the silky petals, taking a small whiff of the enchanting fragrance.

She wanted to spend more time with the tree, she wanted to smell that magical perfume for hours on end, wanted to just look at the soft white flowers but the cold wind whipped her rosy cheeks, and the snow kept her feet cold, so reluctantly she returned to her home, but not before bidding the tree goodbye. 

The next time she visited the tree, it was already the middle of February, and she expected the flowers to have fallen already, but the unspoilt white flowers were still as beautiful as on the first day. As she came closer, the tree seemed to vibrate and her lips quirked upwards at the antics of the plant. When she was a couple steps away from the beautiful tree, the plant shuddered violently and the flowers that once decorated its sprigs now floated towards the snow-covered ground. They piled up in the same spot, and she watched all of this unfold, without making even the smallest gesture.

White petals seemed to dance through the air, all moving in sync, in a sacred dance, all of them landing in the same spot. When the last petal ceased its fluid movements, the wind picked up, and the woman watched in horror as the small pile was blown away. But instead of there being nothing, on the ground laid a little boy. The boy looked up at her with curious eyes, and then as if he recognized her, the toddler started walking in her direction with his arms stretched out. He stumbled over his feet falling forwards, but she was there to catch his little body. The boy watched her with wide eyes full of both fear and curiosity.

She looked at the boy, the little one staring back at her, waiting patiently. She looked around herself but there was no sign of anyone else, and thinking that she couldn’t let the boy here, all alone, she started the trek back home with the boy secured under her coat.

The little one looked around himself, his eyes sparkling brightly, wonder painted on his face. His eyes jumped from one thing to the other, sometimes looking back to the woman as if he was asking her what they were, and she felt her heart grow seeing this little bundle of joy. 

Seeing her house in the distance, her pace grew quicker, wanting to bring the boy inside, away from the biting cold that turned his porcelain skin into rosy petals of a peony, his little nose as rosy as his chubby cheeks.

The woman hurried to open the door to her little home, letting it fall shut behind her, not caring about the loud bang that soon followed, her attention focused on the boy in her arms, who looked around the house with his mouth open in awe.

She thought that it would be warm in the house, but by the time she came back the wood had turned to ash, the fire no longer warming the house. By now the cold from outside started to seep in, making the house colder than it should have been. 

With the health of the boy in mind, she went to her room where she wrapped the toddler in a blanket, taking him with her, so she could start the fire and keep an eye on him. Struggling a bit with the boy that didn’t want to part from her, she managed to put him on the little couch, where he was surrounded by pillows, before starting up the fire.

It wasn’t long before the house started warming up, the warmth making the boy sleepy, the toddler soon falling asleep on the couch. 

The woman spent a bit of time just taking in the sight of the child sleeping so peacefully before going to her kitchen to make some food for both her and the child. When the food was done, she left it on the stove returning to the sleeping child. She took the toddler in her arms, not having the heart to wake him up so they could eat. She gently entered her room, lowering the boy on the bed, and after changing she joined him under the heavy blankets, sleep soon taking her to magical lands.

The next days passed by in a blur and the boy kept the woman occupied. But as the days passed, the woman noticed something peculiar about the boy that now lived with her. It seemed that the days passed by differently for the boy, and just in a few days it seemed like a year passed over, and soon more time passed, the boy developing quicker and quicker as the days went by.

Jaehyun, as she had named him, was quickly growing into a fine young man, and with his rapid growth came strange occurrences. The first time something happened was when the boy tripped over his little legs, and fell. The young boy started crying, not from the pain but from the shock, but instead of tears falling down his cheeks, violet petals started rolling down his face, pooling around the wailing boy.

The next time the boy, that was by now a preteen, was playing around outside, running from one tree to another, trying to climb the old oaks. In his little adventure, he scraped his palm on the bark of one of the trees.The boy ran to his mother, showing her what happened and the both of them watched in fascination as where his blood touched the ground, little sprouts appeared.

As the boy finally grew into a teen, his admirers grew in numbers, Jaehyun soon becoming the most sought after boy in their little village, words of his otherworldly beauty travelling to the neighbouring villages. But the boy did not like the attention that he was getting, choosing to spend most of his time in their little garden caring for the flowers that grew from his blood. He spent his time surrounded by the fragrant flowers that seemed to speak to him in their own special language. He cared for them, taking the time to caress their silken petals, singing to them softly. He felt at home, he felt safe and happy surrounded by the violet, blue, white, magenta and lilac flowers that told him the stories that the winds carried.

They told him about the girls that would seek him in the village, they told him about the boys and girls falling in love, and they told him about the kids that would be brought to this world, and each time he heard about the love shared between the ephemeral humans, his heart skipped a beat, his being filling with joy, the flowers around him flourishing, new sprouts appearing each time.

Jaehyun knew he wasn’t like the rest, he knew about his birth that brought along the flowers that he decided to name as lilacs, because his favorites were the pale purple flowers. He knew he wasn't just a normal human, and the flowers told him of the stories brought from the heavens. The stories about the god that was thrown on Earth which was populated by humans, so he could watch over them, so he could watch over the threads of fate. His little companions told him that he was the one to watch over lovers, to watch over those in search of love.

His time with his beloved flowers was cut short by the harsher wind that blew through their garden announcing that night was coming. The teen left their garden, entering the small house where his mother was already sleeping. The woman was older than the average mother, and her age seemed to make its presence known. Jaehyun couldn’t help but worry about the woman that seemed to be withering away. In the few months that it took him to grow into the teen that he was now, his mother seemed to grow weaker and weaker each passing day.

Jaehyun changed to his sleeping clothes, his heart heavy, his mind filled with thoughts about his mother. He struggled to fall asleep at first but then, fatigue caught up to him and he fell asleep.

Days passed in the same manner, till a few months later. Usually by the time Jaehyun woke up, his mom would be bustling around the kitchen busy making breakfast. This morning, the kitchen was empty, no signs of his mother. With his heart beating erratically he went to his mother's bedroom, his hand trembling as it reached for the doorknob. He slowly opened the door, his eyes closed, afraid to look inside the room. But he knew he had to check on his mom, so he pushed the door open all the way, and called for his mom in a soft whisper. He waited and waited for her to respond, calling her name softly, but not even once did she make a move to show that she heard him.

Tears filled up his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. He slowly walked to her bed, and when he checked to see if she was breathing, if her heart was still beating, he was met with a still corpse. His beloved mother was gone. And with that revelation, so was his hold on his feelings. His eyes teared up but as his tears touched his cheeks they changed into white petals, that pooled around him and around his mom, making her look like an angel that was finally going home.

His movements after that were mechanical. He took care of the proceedings, arranging for a proper burial for his mother, her grave placed where he was first born, next to the lilac that stood tall and proud, ready to protect the grave of the woman. After everything that happened, he was but a mere shell of the cheerful and sweet boy that he was. Everything reminded him of the woman that took him in and cared for him, of the woman that loved him.

For weeks, he spent his days in the garden, but every single day he would bring a bouquet of lilac flowers, the soft purples of the flowers, a constant reminder of the loved one that he lost. After a few days he had taken to wearing a little sprig of purple lilacs on his clothes, to show people that he was still mourning. For a long time, he mourned the loss of his mother, the people of the village pitying the kind boy. 

But Jaehyun couldn’t take the pitying looks anymore, he couldn’t take the constant reminders of his mother that always caused him pain. So with great difficulty, the boy set out into the vast world, in search of healing for his still open wounds.

He travelled along with the winds, sometimes stopping in villages to rest for the night, sometimes staying for longer, but wherever he stopped he left a reminder of his visit in the forms of his precious flowers. He would wander through the towns and villages, sometimes at night, sometimes in broad daylight, watching the people around him.

When he would see the forming strings of love, he would let the lilac flowers grow as a sign of the new love that would bloom. Sometimes along the lilac flowers, magenta flowers would grow as well, speaking of the passion between the soon to be lovers, talking about the fierce love that would bloom between them. 

When he would hear of a birth, or when he would witness a union between lovers, white flowers would bloom for the innocence of the child and for the purity of the union, blue flowers blooming among the white ones, wishing for a calm life, one of tranquility and happiness.

The pink flowers that would bloom, would speak of love, a love that was established, one that would bring warmth to the souls of the humans, one as warm as the summer breeze that would carry the scents of the fragrant flowers. 

When he would come across people in search of their path, violet flowers would bloom to guide the people on their path. But the purple flowers always remained a symbol of the somber days, a colour for mourning the loved ones that rose to the skies, leaving people behind to suffer from their departure. 

Jaehyun travelled for centuries upon centuries, watching as his flowers bloomed all over the world, the pain of his loss still there, a small ache now, but ever present. He watched as his flowers were arranged into pretty bouquets, he watched as the purple lilac flowers would be worn by the mourning women, he watched as painters used his flowers in their masterpieces, he watched as poets used the motifs of his flowers in their poems, he watched as their fragrance would become something used by women, he watched as the world changed, as the world progressed but his flowers bloomed no matter the changes, always a reminder of the love that persisted through the ages, always a reminder of the existence of the god that wandered the world alone, in search of someone he could spend his eternal life with.

As the old man finished telling the story, he turned towards the teen that was drinking his every word, even though he already knew the story by heart. The old man smiled at his nephew that looked at him with wide sparkling eyes, before getting up from his rocking chair.

“It’s getting late, you should head to bed soon.” he ruffled the fiery red hair of the other, a soft smile directed at the boy that scrunched his nose cutely, batting away his grandpa's hand. The old man climbed the wooden stairs of his house, leaving the boy alone in the living room that was warmed by the crackling fire in the fireplace.

Yuta watched as the flames danced over the logs, his mind busy thinking about the story of Jaehyun, the god of love, and the keeper of lilacs. Ever since he was little, he had been in love with the story that his grandpa would tell him. Even now after years, he would ask his grandpa to tell him the story of the lonely man, his heart aching at the harrowing story.

Yuta let his mind wander for a bit longer before getting up from his spot in front of the fireplace. As he turned around to head upstairs to his bedroom, his gaze flicked over to the window, and he had to do a double take. There, in the window, stood a sprig of beautiful lilac flowers. With his heart beating a mile a minute, he went to the window, opening it letting the breeze carry inside the perfume of his favorite flower. He carefully picked up the flower, bringing it inside and closing the window after himself. He brought the elegant flower up to his face letting the perfume wrap around his senses. Yuta walked to the kitchen, a spring in his step, his mind swimming in the heady fragrance of the flower. He filled a vase with water putting the spring inside, before making his way to his bedroom.

Yuta opened the door of his room, flicking the lights on and approaching his desk where he put the vase with his precious flower, too busy looking at said flower and caressing it’s petals to notice anything strange about his room. Once again he felt his heart speed up, his breath catching in his throat, because when he turned towards his bed, ready to throw himself on it, he was greeted with a bouquet of lilac, magenta and white lilac flowers. With careful steps, and wide eyes, he picked up the bouquet that filled his arms, the perfume of the magnificent flowers wrapping around him again. He couldn’t believe his eyes, and he couldn’t comprehend the meaning of the stunning bouquet.

That night, Yuta found it hard to fall asleep, his mind and eyes drifting back to the flowers that filled his room with their beauty and alluring scent. That night, as Yuta fell asleep, a man finally appeared from the shadows, watching as the bewitching boy slept, a smile gracing his ethereal features, dimples popping up on his face at the lovely sight of the peaceful human.

He watched over the sleeping boy till the sun raised in the sky, and even when he had to leave, he turned back to watch as the boy slept for a few more seconds, vowing to return to the side of this man.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this piece, and if you have any questions regarding it feel free to ask me. This fic is part of the  
> [ NCT Wayv Fleur Zine](https://twitter.com/nctwayv_fleur?s=20) so please check it out if you can! It's a very beautiful project that brought together both artists and writers. Please support the other writers and the artists if you can!
> 
> Also if you liked this, please leave a kudos and/or comment!
> 
> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/rosywonu)
> 
> [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/roseywonu)


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